


What'll I Do

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [47]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Holmes Brothers, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 12:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: It's been three nearly months - the breakdown Sherlock had been expecting from his brother finally happens...





	What'll I Do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Favorites
> 
> These last few one-shots have turned into something of a continuing story. While each can stand on its own, based on its prompt, if it fits, I will be reordering them around to fit the tale chronologically as needed. This mini series begins at Part 45 with ["Out of Time"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886461) and continues through here.

Sherlock entered the dark townhouse.

It was not good.

He had expected this to happen weeks ago. A headstrong Mycroft Holmes was a dangerous thing.

Especially to himself.

Three months ago his idiot brother let the love of his life, Gregory Lestrade, take a job overseas in New York City. Let him hop on a plane and let leave him. Why? because Mycroft forgot to keep what was most important right in front of him or at the very least right beside him. Clearly, his brother had not learned a thing from watching him almost lose John to his own special branch of genius stupidity to know better.

Seventy-two hours ago his brother came by his office after a business trip, then walked out of his office at the end of the day.

No one had heard from him since.

That was bad.

Anthea had tried to call, text and email Mycroft with no response.

Mycroft had not responded to either of his mobiles. Nor was he taking any visitors at the townhouse, not even her. The only person, outside of Sherlock himself, who had unrestricted access to his brother 24/7 was not being allowed to see him? Anthea actually shot a guard in the knee cap for denying her and only when several firearms turned on her had she realized the seriousness of the situation. Every single guard looked at her apologetically. Their eyes begged her, where their words could not: to please not make them shoot her, but none would relent to give her entrance.

That was worse.

That was when she called Sherlock.

Sherlock knew they would not shoot him, but also knew each would lose their job for not doing theirs. It was an impossible situation for them, so he avoided it altogether.

Only the immediate family knew about the secret entry. It was the ultimate failsafe not on any official blue print of the house. A fluke of the design grid that the family used to their advantage. A series of passages from the basement of a business two streets away lead to a hidden panel in the panic room in the rear of the townhouse. Not even John knew about it until after they were married and even then, only because of the extenuating circumstances that required it. Sherlock knew his brother had not told Anthea for she surely would have used it.

Thus it was half two in the morning when Sherlock entered the main part of the townhouse.

Everyone who knew Sherlock knew he played violin. The four main fingertips of his left hand had near permanent striations from his decades of playing. But he was not alone in his musical inclination.

What most people did not know was that his brother was equally a virtuoso on the piano. Mycroft kept a piano at the townhouse, but he rarely played it anymore.

“Oh, brother mine.” Sherlock whispered painfully to himself as the sad music reached him.

He wondered if that was what he was like in the first presumed death of Irene Adler. He had shut himself from the world and composed. He mentally apologized to John and Mrs. Hudson as he felt the pain of their helplessness from their point of view.

The living room was a wreck. Well, what Mycroft would consider a wreck. There were two empty bottles of scotch on a side table. The ringed evidence of condensation from a highball glass sat on the wood surface of a side table, but the crystal itself was not present. It was likely next to Mycroft at the piano along with his cigarettes. The semi-crushed pack had two remaining, but the ashtray was not in sight, nor his S.T. Dupont Ligne 2 Diamond Head Gold Lighter. His brother's shoes, socks, tie and suit jacket were tossed, not folded, not hung but _tossed,_ and carelessly at that, unto other surfaces.

Books Sherlock had never seen before, with random blue, orange and red Post-it notes flagging pages, were haphazardly stacked by an armchair.

He picked up a random book and flipped through the pages. It was filled with Mycroft’s elegant cursive and had a few post-it notes. Sherlock turned to a random orange flagged page.

> Late Autumn 2013 (Breakfast)  
_"Any day spent with you is my favorite day. So, today is my new favorite day." — A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh  
_And I find I will likely favor tomorrow even more.

Sherlock softly gasped in surprise and then sighed just as softly in sadness. He somehow knew the entry was about Lestrade. He is surprised by the sentiment shown in the words and saddened because as he read the entry before and after he realized this was after he and John had foiled Lord Moran’s plan to bomb Parliament, but before the new year.

He picked up a different book and chose another random orange flagged entry. 

> Mid Spring 2009 (Lunch)   
"_How amazing is it to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head._" — Nina LaCour  
Does not judge. Is honestly interested. Nearly choked maintaining a stoic countenance during brotherly imitation.

Sherlock softly smiled. He knew this entry meant Mycroft had a business lunch with Lestrade who had likely entertained his brother by acting out a story that mocked him. Sherlock wants to be offended, but anything that brought a moment’s unexpected joy to his brother is worthy, even if it was at his expense.

He picks up a third book and finds a random blue flagged entry. 

> Later Spring 2011 (Baskerville)  
_"I fell in love with his soul before I could even touch his skin. If that isn't true love, tell me what is." — Unknown  
_And I want to touch so badly, always so close and never close enough to what I so badly want. Someday I will.

This would have been after Lestrade returned to London after appearing at Dartmoor. 

He saw a red flagged entry and turned to it.

> Summer 2011 (Exits down)  
_“You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.” ― John Green_  
I realize I never told him I loved him, either of them, but I can only handle one love right now.

With a start Sherlock realized this entry was about him. The day he jumped from St. Bart’s. He remembered when he called Mycroft a few days later; before he could say anything Mycroft had told him he loved him and apologized for not saying so in person. Sherlock reminded him that they had hugged; had physically held each other tight for a moment. That was as much sentiment either of them could have handled at that moment. Had Mycroft said the words, Sherlock may have never left London.

He spotted a book that had a blue and red flag on the same entry and picked it up.

> Winter 2015 (EXile )  
_"I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn't love myself." — Anonymous  
_He said he knew I had to send him away. Knew that I hated it and how it tore at me on the inside. Yet he had absolute faith that I would have got him back before a month had passed let alone six. Who is this angel?

Mycroft had trusted Lestrade enough to confide in him about Sherlock's near fatal exile after the fact. That was trust.

Sherlock realized then that these are his brother’s journals. There are no real dates in any of them. Only the year and an indication of season. There are no names anywhere. All had quotes that reflected Mycroft's mood at time of entry. Red flags were the hurtful things. Orange flags were the good things, but the blue flags were Mycroft's favorite things. Sherlock could tell that in Mycroft’s brokenhearted state he sat in the armchair, drank and read all his favorite times between himself and Lestrade.

He knows he should not be reading these but cannot stop himself as he picks through random journals and reads some of the blue tags. He knows reading over those favorite memories is what finally brought this to a head for Mycroft. Sherlock does not know what he is looking for but will know it when he sees it.

> Autumn 2012 (Lunch)  
_"You're my favorite place to go to when my mind searches for peace." — Unknown  
_When did this happen? How do I stop it? Do I want to? No, I do not.
> 
> Late-Autumn 2014 (Real office visit)  
_"Falling for you was like falling down the stairs. I was in complete control at first, then, without warning, I was spinning, tumbling, and has no idea why or how. Then, before I even knew what happened, I lay at the bottom; shocked, ended up exactly where I was trying to go." — K. Towne Jr.  
_I tried to be cold to him. It is becoming more and more hard to do and I think he knows this. I can’t do this.
> 
> Autumn 2016 (Sherrinford)  
_"It matters not who you love, it matters only that you love." — John Lennon  
_His truth slips out from his lips as I’m released from that grey hell. I’m stunned by the hours of torment spent there and by the admission but I cannot reciprocate. It shames me.
> 
> Winter 2016 (The Rain)  
_“I've always loved you, and when you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as you would like them to be.” — Leo Tolstoy — Anna Karenina_  
I say the words at last. It feels so Good!
> 
> Summer 2005 (The Sergeant)   
_"He was Christmas morning, crimson fireworks and birthday wishes." — Raquel Franco  
“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”- William Shakespeare – Romeo and Juliet  
_Oh Universe! Why him? Why now? Never in my life have I wanted anything or anyone or feared anything or anyone as much as this beautiful man that I cannot have ever. 

Sherlock stopped reading and put down the journals. That was it. The day Mycroft and Lestrade met. It was shocking to discover that Mycroft has been in love with Gregory Lestrade practically from the day the two men met. Mycroft had denied himself for years before he finally tasted true happiness with the man.

And then was stupid enough to lose him.

For geniuses in everything else under the sun, the Holmes boys were, to quote John, _spectacularly ignorant_ , when it comes caring for their own hearts.

_ “What'll I do_  
_ When you are far away_  
_ And I am blue_  
_ What'll I do?_

_What'll I do?_  
_ When I am wondering who_  
_ Is kissing you_  
_ What'll I do?_”

He heard Mycroft’s gentle singing and that alone nearly broke Sherlock as he made his way to the music room. He stood in the doorway as the infamous Iceman who was made of anything but ice sat at the piano and hung his head, his long fingers at rest on the piano keys. His hair stood on ends. He was barefoot, his suit trousers and untucked shirt were rumpled and in disarray. Sherlock knew it was the same clothes from seventy-two hours ago.

“Time heals all wounds, they say – don’t they?” Mycroft was still for a very long time; his voice was almost too low to be heard when he finally spoke. 

It was not a question to be answered so Sherlock did not respond as he walked in and stood by the piano.

“No one tells you what the bloody hell are you supposed to do until that time gets here though do they? The ever mysterious _they_! Because right now? Right now? It…it hurts… It hurts Sherlock! Right now, I still hear his voice in my head… Right now, I still feel his presence even though he’s across the bloody Pond! Right now...I still love him! Right now, Sherlock! What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do with all this hurt _right now_!” His words are slurred and glottal and wrapped in such pain as Sherlock had never seen or heard from his big brother before.

Mycroft turn on the bench and started to stand but pitched forward. Sherlock caught him in his arms before Mycroft nearly face planted and lowered them both to the floor.

“What have I done Sherlock? He’s gone! What have I done?” Mycroft weakly grabbed at his lapels and sobbed. “I love him! And…and…he’s gone! I let him go! What have I done?”

For the first time ever, the younger Holmes brother wrapped his arms around the elder and gently rocked him.

“You’ll get him back Mycie. You will. Yes, you hurt right now and you’re going to hurt for a lot of right nows. But you’re also going to learn your lesson and you’re going to take all this pain and put it into your own words and you’re going to tell him. He’ll likely not want to listen to you at first and I’m sorry, brother mine, but he’s earned that right. But keep telling him, eventually he’ll hear you and take it from there. You destroyed the bridge, you’re going to have to rebuild it.”

“I don’t know what to say to him.” Mycroft softly hiccupped.

“Start with the basics. Just tell him you love him. Even if that’s the only thing you can say, then so be it, but say it.” Sherlock encouraged.

They sat for a while until Mycroft slowly rose and made his way to his office. He pulled out his stationary, ink and pens and started to write. When Sherlock left an hour later, there were many paper balls tossed around the room, but there was a steadfast determination to his brother. It told Sherlock that while this was far from over, and Mycroft was going to have one hell of a hangover later, his fire was relit.

Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade were two very stubborn, badly hurt men and Mycroft had one hell of a bridge to rebuild.

Sherlock gave it two years and he would be Mycroft’s Best Man at their wedding.

**Author's Note:**

> The song Mycroft sings at the piano is "What'll I Do" written by Irving Berlin. There are several renditions, but the one I use here is the one in the opening credits of "The Great Gatsby" , the 1974 version with Robert Redford and Mia Farrow.  
<https://youtu.be/gWKWen0Ujmo>
> 
> For trivia: it is sung by actor William Atherton, best known for portraying the annoying reporter, Richard Thornburg, in "Die Hard" 1 & 2 and and Walter Peck, the annoying agent, in the original "Ghostbusters".


End file.
